Discovering Snape
by canihavea-soda
Summary: A parody of all good student teacher relations. Because, well, we all know Snape's a sexpot. High PG13


**Discovering Snape**

_I have no excuse, other than the fact that I found this idea far too amusing to let go._

_Because we all know Snape's a slut. _

* * *

"Oh, Jesus! Harder, yes God, harder!"

_Bzzt._

"Have you been a bad boy? I think you have...I think you need a spank..." _Whimpers._

_Bzzt._

"Viagra, 10milligrams for ten dollars ninety-five!"

_Flick._

Draco dropped the remote control of the muggle television to the floor, and looked at the now black screen of the strange box, a slightly mortified look on his face. Distractedly, he wiped the hand that had been holding the remote on his trouser leg, as though ridding it of some contaminant from the remote itself. It wasn't the porn that worried him – it wasn't even the fact that all the buttons he had pressed had led him to porn...

No, what worried him was the fact that this was in the room of his head of house. He cringed, and backed away from the muggle artefact, mentally swearing never to agree to a student teacher conference in Snape's private chambers ever again. _'Far too...disturbing...' _The Malfoy boy wound his way around the over-stuffed chair that lay in front of the television (_'How does it even work? Muggle things shouldn't be able to work here...'_), and back to the door that led into Snape's office. As the potions-master had left something vital for their discussion back in the classroom, he had left Draco there to wait for him.

And, well – open doors always intrigue people, and despite appearances, the potions-master was not an overly hated man. The blond had merely been curious as to what his living arrangements were (and had been disappointed that he hadn't been able to find a door to a bedroom). _'After all...he's not exactly the ugliest thing around here...' _Draco sniggered quietly to himself. _'I think that prize must have been won by Crabbe and Goyle combined.' _For some reason, this thought led to a picture of Crabbe-Goyle offspring, and the Malfoy briefly wondered for his sanity as he slid into the chair in front of his professor's desk.

In order to get his mind off of this heinous subject, he turned to pondering the porn on Snape's television. He did briefly wonder, once more, how it even worked within school grounds (_'If I could figure that out...maybe I could rig one up...'_) However, this boring technicality didn't keep his attention for long, and he began to call up the images he had just seen flickering on the screen. Sadly, it had all been heterosexual porn, which pretty much dashed the hopes of many of the male student body who had fallen for the anti-charms of the potions-master. To have such a disregard for looks, and still have sex appeal was pretty impressive, after all – and that voice – it was a wonder Draco had managed to get through with such good marks in potions, considering how little he actually paid attention to the words coming out of Snape's mouth – just the actual sound was quite enough.

Slowly, as the minutes wore on, and there was still no sign of the professor anywhere, even thoughts of sex couldn't keep the teenager's mind occupied. He leant back slightly in the chair, and put his feet up onto the desk, sighing as he did so. Now that he was slightly more comfortable, he took the liberty of looking at the ceiling...

"Bloody hell!" Perhaps there was a God after all. On their way up to look at the ceiling, his eyes had been caught by something propped up on the highest shelf of the book-case. Usually, it was out of sight, but from this angle, he could see between a jar of pickled goat intestines and a casket of Gillyweed, to the item beyond. Being a calendar...the type of calendar with pictures...

From where he sat, all Draco could make up was a well-oiled man leaning provocatively against some sort of car (red) – he couldn't make out whether or not the shot went below the waist, as the calendar had half collapsed...but it did at least return some hope of certain...exploits...with a certain professor.

Feeling daring (and in the knowledge that, should he be caught, Snape probably favoured him enough to let him get away without punishment), he hopped out of the desk chair. Then, tiptoeing for no apparent reason other than to amuse himself, he made his way over to the large oak bookcase, and looked up. It seemed a lot taller closer to... Carefully, he reached his arm upwards, in order to gauge the height of the highest shelf. From the floor, he could just about hook his fingers over the edge of it, but was unable to reach the calendar itself.

Draco looked around, and spying the waste-paper bin (which was mercifully empty), he grabbed it, and turned it upside down. _'A perfect step up!' _The Malfoy climbed onto the upturned bin, which wobbled slightly as he put his full weight on it. Luckily, it was made of metal, so was able to take his weight. This done, he was able to easily reach the elusive calendar, and bringing it down to eye-level, he saw to his delight that the shot was a full-body one.

_'Excellent...'_

_Ding!_

Draco jumped, and dropped his prize in alarm. Looking in the direction of the sound, he spied a grandfather clock, which had just begun to chime the hour, and shook his head. Smirking slightly at his own stupidity, he hopped off of the upturned bin, righted it, put it back into place, and then retrieved the raunchy calendar. Walking back to his chair, he flicked through it with relish, pausing on each picture and lingering on a couple, even licking his lips at one of them.

The sound of footsteps in the hall bought him out of his hormonal reverie, and he hurriedly threw the thing away from him, so that he wouldn't be found holding incriminating evidence.

Alas... Draco never had been a good throw – hence why he'd become seeker for the Slytherin team, rather than a Chaser... The throw went awry and the calendar landed directly in front of the door. He made a move to get up and collect it, but the door opened, and he plonked back down into his chair, humming innocently and pretending to study his fingernails.

Snape stepped in, and immediately stepped onto the thrown calendar, which rustled beneath his boots. Frowning, he looked down, and then one eyebrow crept diligently up his forehead when he saw what it was he had stepped on. Noticing the sound of humming, he looked up, eyebrow still raised, at Draco, who was conscientiously studying the grain in the wood of the professor's desk.

The potions-master stepped fully into the room, and closed the door behind him. Slowly, not taking his eyes from the Malfoy boy, he bent down, and scooped up his dirty time-schedule device. Just as slowly, he stood up again, his height imposing in the low-ceilinged dungeon office. Draco sank slightly into his chair, knowing that there probably wasn't going to be a way out of this...

To his surprise, the professor just smirked broadly, and set the calendar down on his desk, so that it showed the picture for that month (November). Snape watched carefully to see whether Draco's eyes were drawn – when he saw that the boy's eyes were not only drawn, but that they also lingered, he nodded slightly to himself.

Giving Draco little warning, he snapped the picture away, and quickly replaced it with a hand. The Malfoy boy blinked, stared at the hand, and then realised that the professor's head was on a level with his. He looked up, and gulped when he met the dark eyes of his potions-master.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape began seriously, yet the corners of his mouth turned slightly upwards before he continued, "I believe that you have been bad. And generally, such things call for punishment, do they not?" He tilted his head to one side, and studied the contortions of the blond's face – he'd obviously confused the boy. The professor leant forwards a little more, so that he was able to whisper into Draco's ear.

"Does the word 'spank' hold any meaning to you?" Draco blinked as a sure hand found it's way onto his shoulder. Snape drew back, eyebrow raised once again, waiting for an answer.

Unable to find words (and mind still full of sex, porn, and keeping at bay the image of Crabbe-Goyle offspring), he nodded. And then, feeling slightly odd, as Snape had actually begun to smile, he reached out his hands, grabbed the professor's face by the cheeks, and yanked him downwards to do whatever he wanted to his mouth...

* * *

_::Giggles like a fantard.:: I know, I know...any excuse..._


End file.
